


pale ice

by ribbonista



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonista/pseuds/ribbonista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracer hunts the Widowmaker down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pale ice

The sound of gravel crunching underfoot was the only hint that someone was even creeping through the dark lit, abandoned buildings of the surrounding city. The sound of the scuffle was far off, shouting and the whip-like crack of guns and explosions muffled as if Tracer had had cotton pulled over her head. Her gun was cocked, ready for the chance to blast anything that moved into smithereens.

Truthfully, Lena was supposed to be with the rest of her team, defending the payload from a rancorous attack from a myriad of villains, but when the orange-clad Hero found herself counting only four opposing assailants, she knew something had to be up. Using the temporal abilities of her chronal accelerator, she had slipped seamlessly from the fray to find where the missing enemy could be.

Tracer's eyes flicked back and forth before she deftly jumped up to the open window of one of the empty buildings, hoisting her skinny frame up over the lip of the frame. As she deftly fell with a soft thump onto the ground, she kept herself poised- before the whistle of a bullet whizzed by her ear from the window she had just scaled into, ruffling the fluffy brown hair of her side burn. With a silent yelp, Tracer whirled and turned, and from the window, saw the lithe, upside-down form of the missing enemy assailant-

The Widowmaker.

The time-skipper gasped out a hearty, “You!” before aiming her pulse rifle and blasting out a round of brightly hued shots, but the sniper was far too quick for Lena's trigger finger and she ascended out of Lena's sight just as quick as she came. Tracer blinked over to the window and leaned on the frame to crane her neck and peer upward, but recoiled quickly before spotting the curves of the enemy- another bullet whizzed by, barely grazing the button nose of the Englishwoman.

Tracer had to admit, the marksmanship of Amélie was something to admire, and a happy grin- not at being shot at, but at having a _challenge_ \- graced her pink lips. Taking a few readying steps back, she dove out the window and used her chronal accelerator to blink up, up, up, the smooth stone surface of the neighboring building, before throwing herself onto the roof into a roll. When she grappled to her feet, she raised the pulse pistols and aimed across the roof to where the Widowmaker had to be-

But she froze.

Illuminated by the heavy moon hanging like a paper disc in the sky, the Widowmaker's lithe curves and deft body silhouetted against the inky darkness of the night. She turned her head and smiled a smile that made Tracer's heart beat a little too fast to make herself comfortable.

“Oh my... it seems you've caught me.” the enemy woman asked slowly, deliberately, her lilting, soft accent swirling about the air. Lena swallowed heavily, and her own hard, English accent cut the tension in the air like butter.

“Well, love! Are you gonna give up now that the cavalry's arrived?” 

Tracer's voice had a hint of laughter, but she could feel her trigger finger grow heavy. The Widowmaker turned on her heel, gazing slowly at Tracer with cold and daunting eyes.

“You are nervous, Hero.” The sniper comments, taking a few steps closer. Tracer couldn't help but notice the movements of her hips, the length of her legs, and for for the first time, the time-skipper realized how _beautiful_ Amélie was. But, she realized, she was the enemy. She was a 'bad guy'. She was everything that Tracer opposed. She was beautiful.

Lena couldn't fire. The Widowmaker grew close, a playful smile playing on blue-tinted lips. “Or perhaps... it isn't nervousness, no? Maybe it is... apprehension.” As the sniper spoke, Tracer mustered all she could to give a very unconvincing sneer, forcing her lead-heavy tongue to snap a retort back.

“Be careful now, love!” She grinned cheerfully, though her heart was beating in her ribcage. “Wouldn't want to get in the crossfire of _two_ pulse rifles!”

In a heartbeat, the Widowmaker dashed forward, grabbing Lena's arms and twisting them _painfully_ away from herself. With a gasp, she couldn't help but drop the rifles, but the clamour of her guns on the rooftop was the least of her problems.

One fell swoop was all it took for the Widowmaker lean in, her torso pressing against Tracer's own technology-clad ribcage. Her heartbeat sped up so fast that the Englishwoman could swear Amélie would be able to feel it against her breast, but the deft smile that played upon frozen lips hinted at nothing. Leaning close, the sniper gently, very gently, brushed her cool lips against the warmth of Lena's own, and for a second, due to no fault of Tracer's genetic makeup, she swore that time itself froze.

The muffled sounds of fighting slowed to silence, and light of the moon bloomed into a brilliant glowing upon the cool hue of Widowmaker's skin. The only sound was the blood roaring in Tracer's ears, and the only feeling she felt was the icy lingering of lips on lips. There was a breath of French accent that murmured a simple, “Careful now, prey.”

As quick as it started, it ended. Amélie deftly released Tracer and spun the two of them around, dashing off the rooftops and back in the direction of the kerfuffle. Tracer stood in a stunned silence, feeling tingling upon her mouth, before she gently bent to pick up her discarded pulse rifles. She gazed across the silhouettes of the city in a mixture of shock and awe, looking the way the sniper had absconded. 

With a wry smile upon her blushing face, Tracer patted herself down before activating the machine on her breast and blinking off back to the heat of the battle, to reunite with her team to defend the payload before the enemy overwhelmed them.


End file.
